


slump wire

by yonaren (nicrt)



Category: JO1 (Japan Band)
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Band Fic, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Jealousy, M/M, Minor Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27453433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicrt/pseuds/yonaren
Summary: slump wire has taken their part of the world by storm and they couldn't get enough of it. except maybe until that very world of theirs try to rip them apart, that same storm threatening to eat them alive. and they aren't even togethertogether, like, at all.yet, anyways.or: an enemies to friends to lovers skysei band au
Relationships: Kinjo Sukai/Ohira Shosei
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> a disclaimer: my writing has always been slow, inspirations coming at random spurts; so i hope you don't mind the release of mini-chapters dear reader. the hope is that with the backbone of the story in place (or in mind), i can finish this fic still. slow and steady, yeah? ^^'''
> 
> also i dont even _know_ where this pairing came from or why i like them  
> but i like them. so.  
> i fic'ed it :^D

random chords. practiced scales. calloused fingertips.

tuning. retuning. tuning again.

"shion could probably get it right."

shosei glances up at the taller boy, seating opposite of him. raises an eyebrow at him, pausing his fiddling.

a scoff. "i mean, he could probably do it for you. properly."

"shion's not here." he's not, having been caught by his homeroom teacher for smoking again. he's in detention writing an apology letter now.

a shrug. "whatever, man."

shosei doesn't turn away, doesn't look back down at his guitar. he's a quiet person by nature; so is his friend. quiet people like them tended not to say the things they wanted to say. nor say things in the way they wanted to be said. shosei's patient. he can wait out the nervous shuffling and distracted huffs.

"what?" annoyance trickling out of him with that one word.

now shosei shrugs. "it looked like you wanted to say more."

"well, i don't," he snaps.

he purses his lips - feels chided, like it was his fault they were now fighting. again. it's not the first time they do; they're never been on the same page often enough. so shosei often questions their statuses as friends.

this time he looks away. goes back to his strums and strings and stinging emotions.

they wait out the hour until syoya comes running in, released from practice, and shion shuffled in, done with detention.

and then nothing else matters except for the band.

(sukai helps carry his guitar case later after practice - an apology shosei accepts.)


	2. Chapter 2

_ohira-san has a pretty voice._

it's something sukai noticed from the first time they ever spoke to each other. that is, after the joint student-parent-teachers meeting he'd been forced to attend. up until now, he was unsure as to why the student council was being involved with a delinquent's case like his. his previous schools have never bothered to before.

but there they were, all squashed together in the principal's fancy office.

he'd tune out as soon as the principal and his homeroom teacher began droning on about unacceptable behaviours and the consequences of them. the gist was, he'd be sentenced (because that's what it was, right? a sentencing for a crime) to a few hours of detention after school.

but because sukai's life is hell warmed over, of course it wasn't _just_ detention. there were community service hours too, including picking up stray trash around the school, cleaning up the cafeteria areas, and then some. and because the adults in his life were living pieces of shit who took pleasure in bossing him around, on top of all that, he had to hand over a 1000-word essay on 'why violence should never be the answer'.

pfft. please. sukai barely even touched the spoilt bastard and now they were suing him for letting the guy trip and fall flat on his own face.

his homeroom teacher had this sadistic gleam in his eyes as the principal meted out his punishments. his father, nodded along to all that was being said; even went on to say "heavy handed punishments must be given out to properly teach discipline, after all".

none of the student council members had spoken up as the session went on. but sukai could sense some uncomfortable shuffling the longer they were here. miyajima, especially, looked green in the face.

his first evening as the school's very own slave started out on that very same day. to add insult to injury, he was to be chaperoned by a member of the student council at all times.

sukai was angry, sure. who wouldn't be. he stabbed an offending piece of canned garbage into the litter bag they had handed him, the force enough to rattle everything disgusting inside. they're all taking pleasure in mocking his predicament.

he's stabbing into the plastic bag once more when he heard him.

"you shouldn't have punched him."

it came out as a whisper. soft and quiet, like a secret meant for just the two of them. it's hard not to pick up on how nice his voice was. the kind sukai would have liked to listen to on the radio. on a cd, singing a sweet kind of melody. maybe even sing one of his songs.

but the thought of it was barreled over by the sudden flare of disdain. of affront. of _betrayal_.

he whipped around, snarling out his next words without remorse. "you have no idea what happened. you have no idea what I went through. so _you_ , mr. _perfect student_ don't get to lecture _me_ about what i should and shouldn't do. the bastard had it coming."

and before more could be said - before sukai could even comprehend the expression on perfect student's face - _shosei_ , his mind supplied - he turned back around and stabbed at more trash with a little more force than necessary.

and that was the first and last time they ever spoke to one another.

until the fight, that is.


	3. Chapter 3

"how's home?" they're having konbeni-bought instant ramen and yakisobapan on the school rooftop. student council privileges being abused.

"same old. how's school?"

shosei gives him an unimpressed look. "you would know," he deadpans.

that gets a smirk out of sukai.

it's just the two of them again. syoya had a sudden club meeting to attend to. shion decided he wanted to eat out back alone instead. shosei knows he was taking a smoke break, although he appreciates that shion was polite enough to not outright say it to his face. there was only so much he could allow his bandmates getting away with. current choices not withstanding.

sukai, sitting cross-legged across from him, nudges him on his calf with the toe of his shoe. shosei frowns at him and the knowing smirk on his face, happily munching on his food. someone's in a good mood today.

"what's got you so happy?" he asks, taking a sip of his bottled water.

"who said i was happy?" says the clearly-humming-happily boy.

"no one," shosei says, rolling his eyes.

he doesn't think much of it. a happy sukai is a rare sukai. and to be very honest, shosei would pick sukai being happy over anything else. _he deserved it_ , shosei thinks.

so he lets the other boy knock ankles and poke thighs all throughout lunch, smiling to himself as sukai hums to their newest song. 

happy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **CONTENT WARNING // scene involving fighting, descriptions of violence, bullying, descriptions of pain**
> 
> This is my first go at adding such warnings to my chapters; I'll add more if they're required but these are the foremost warnings used for this chapter

sukai felt miserable.

he'll admit it right here, right now, while getting the shit beat out of him. he's miserable. his family is shit. his friends are shit. his life is shit. there was just no one way to look at it other than that.

a brutally strong punch left him winded as it connected with his solar plexus and he's coughing out the air that he's so desperately trying to keep in. his ribs hurt like hell. there's cruel laughter all around him and suddenly, he's being hauled up right from his hunched position, hands roughly grabbing him by the hair and arms.

with his good eye, he glared blearily at the instigator for this ambush. who in turn, smirked down at him and spat on him. fun. the slap that came right after stung like a bitch and a half.

anger bubbled up in his chest. at the unfairness of the world. the cruelty in which people holds in their hearts. at the pathetic attempts he's making to just survive. what did he do to deserve this?

he's manhandled again, pushed away, and then kicked on the back. he tasted blood and felt his teeth shake from the force of his jaw meeting concrete. then, there's a pressure on his head, pushing his face further into the ground. sukai focused only on trying to get his breathing even, trying to take in whatever air he can.

there's no way he was dying here. not under an overpass that had too many cars driving by, that'll drown out the signs of a fight. even if death isn't what his assailants are aiming for, there was no way he's going go down like this.

he's pathetic. he's miserable. he's furious. he'll crawl out of this alive.

sukai never shed a tear throughout the entire ordeal.

by the time he came to, it's already night time. he's sore and bruised in all kinds of places - save for perhaps the most perverted of kinds and he is so goddamn relieved for that. he tried to sit up and it felt like there were a thousand pins stabbing him through the lungs. his legs were like a combination of lead and jelly; there's a constant flare of pain in his shoulder. his head is killing him.

he didn't cry. not from the pain or the suffering. he didn't cry, because he's cried enough and he'd rather die than to cry over a couple of goons, over some bruises and broken ribs, over his inability to walk away from something he didn't start.

he laughed instead. softly at first, in incredulity - before he's outright howling hysterically. his chest was on fire but he laughed anyways. he didn't know why. it was better than to mope.

"what the fuck are you laughing about?!"

that voice. angel-like. soft but with an edge to it. pretty.

his laughter died down slowly as he lolled his head to one side. out of his good eye, sukai saw him then. he didn't realise it was raining and that it's cold enough that he was shivering, not until the droplets were blocked off and something warm was thrown over him. everything hurt even more now.

"hey! don't fall asleep on me here!"

sukai saw a flash of something - white, bright, and LED - and instantly went to grip the wrist holding the phone.

ohira glanced up at him in surprise as he wheezed out a 'no hospital'.

and then, a 'please'. 

sukai wasn't above pleading, because even in his current delirious state, he knew the last thing he needed was a trip to the A&E. he wasn't above being afraid either; of what may come should his family see him on a hospitla bed that night. or worse, a gurney. he must look the part because ohinra just stared at him. watching him. assessing him. 

_take a picture_ , he though, _it lasts longer_.

he didn't expect the hard snort that escaped ohira. nor the little bite he did on his lower lip as he looked away, his cheeks twitching as he fights back a smile. oh. he's said it out loud.

"you did," was the reply ohira gave as he turned back to face him, face serious again. "can you walk?"

no, sukai didn't think he could....he's very tired.

at that, ohira frowns, expression turning grimmer every second. then he sighed and says, "i'll call my mum."

sukai wanted to fight back. he really did; he didn't want any adults involved in this.

but with the warmth of the jacket enveloping him, the pitter patter of the rain falling on the umbrella over them, the soft and gentle tone ohira's voice had as he spoke to his mother...

sukai fell asleep, hand still wrapped around the other's wrist.


End file.
